Slow Increments
by Juliedoo
Summary: In all honesty...she'd tap that. Drabblish Kise/Oc
1. Chapter 1

. Literature Assignment: Observation Journal of Inaba Nana, Class 1-B .

.

**Day One:**

_Sensei_ is a sadist! I have too much to do—I have a life! I have my youth. This project is obviously born of jealousy that _sensei _has neither, and so must waste mine in retaliation.

**Day Two:**

Choked on _melonpan _while laughing at lunch today. Thought I was going to die. Ayano-chan thumped me in the back a few times, right on the bra clasp. Going to bruise, probably. But I live! Must celebrate with pocky. Will be extra careful not to choke this time.

**Day Three:**

Annoyed. Have stupid pretty boy model in class—hair color can not possibly be natural, unless one of his parents is a banana. Flock of rabid fangirls swarming him all the time. Loud and giggly. Makes it hard to doodle when I'm supposed to be finishing coefficient worksheet.

Worksheet could be put to better use as toilet paper. Math is dumb and so are the people who enjoy it.

A grouping of owls is called a parliament. A grouping of evil succubi is a Kise Fan Club.

**Day Four: **

Have never had a boyfriend. Mother keeps telling me she'll still love me if I'm a lesbian. Keep telling mother I'm not a lesbian. Third time we've had this conversation. WTF?

**Day Five:**

Spoke to banana model today. Told him to enforce volume control on his harem of minions. Argued about the semantics of minions and ardent admirers. Then another guy came and kicked him in the ass for being late for basketball practice.

Laughed at his pain and misfortune.

...He's alright looking, I guess.

**Day Six:**

Went to eat sushi with Ayano-chan. Dared me to try sea urchin roll. Half tempted to lick a bathroom floor to get the taste out of my mouth.

Never again.

**Day Seven: **

Why am I so poor? Have to look for part-time job to pay for cell phone bill and pocky. Considered using feminine wiles to snare a sugar daddy. Discarded the notion—old men are gross.

Going around to put in applications.

**Day Eight:**

Talked to banana model again. Bummed pocky off me before class, told me the way I am about sweets reminded him of Murasakibaracchi. Don't know what that is—sounds vaguely like a venereal disease. He probably caught it from his succubi harem.

**Day Nine: **

Have an interview at Marui department store. Lots of overpriced clothes and purses and lotions and scented candles and cosmetics, like someone's ovaries exploded inside the building. Manager looked pretty bitchy when I was applying. Had a cake face, startled eyebrows—you know when they're plucked way too much?

I'd be pissy if I looked like that, too.

But seriously, I need the money.

**Day Ten: **

Read back over this, realized that I'm kind of an asshole. Strangely okay with that.

Fingers crossed, hoping I get hired. Don't want to have to prostitute myself to fund sugar habit, but am willing if absolutely forced.

**Day Eleven: **

Rained today. Hair spazzed out. Pulled it back into low ponytail so I wouldn't look like a poodle. Random upperclassman told me I had lovely cheekbones. Thanked him, walked away. Ayano-chan called me an idiot.

Apparently he was trying to flirt with me. Missed a cue? Obvious why I don't have a boyfriend. But the guy has good taste; my cheekbones ARE fabulous.

**Day Twelve:**

Got job! Can finance pocky addiction. All is good with the world.

**Day Thirteen: **

Talked to banana model again. Apparently he's done some adds for Marui before. I asked him if he had to go drag to do it, since the store primarily caters to women. He sputtered and gawked a lot. I sense an interesting story. Will pry it out of him eventually.

**Day Fourteen: **

First day of work. Crazy woman spent an obscene amount on a pair of stilettos. Probably sold her children to afford them. Dealt with the public, put a lot of things on racks, heard an alarm wail as a shoplifter tried to shuffle out the door. Assured that people try to steal things all the time.

Came home, felt like death had gnawed on me for a while and then vomited me back up. So tired. Only four days a week, though. And the money. It's all for the pocky. Mustn't lose sight of my goal. Must persevere.

**Day Fifteen: **

Came to school, found out somebody had thrown my indoor slippers into the garbage overnight. Am puzzled and rather put off by the unprovoked rudeness. Have apparently gained an anonymous nemesis. Must remain vigilant. Managed to foil them anyway by borrowing an extra pair from the janitor, who has a whole stash of them squirreled away. Take _that_.

**Day Sixteen:**

Mystery solved! Apparently the crime was perpetrated by one of banana model's fangirls who was too stupid to keep quiet about it. Never underestimate Kaijō's rumor mill, or the quick and fickle tongues of teenage girls.

Presumably, I was maliciously targeted because I provide frequent, intelligent conversation to banana model. Perhaps if the bitch horde did more than squeal and simper in his general direction, he would speak to them, too. Pointed that out. Received many glares.

Don't care, because I'm right.

**Day Seventeen: **

Was finagled into attending a basketball game.

Holy shit!

Current mood: flabbergasted. Sort of turned on.

**Day Eighteen: **

Banana model whining at me to quit calling him banana model. Flicked him in the ear when he got too annoying—he hates that.

It's like training a dog.

**Day Nineteen: **

Ayano-chan accused me of having a crush on the banana model. She's obviously delusional. Besides, it's perfectly acceptable to smell the buffet without gorging yourself on it. See pretty man: stare at pretty man. And the banana model is a model for a reason. Because he's _pretty_.

No, I am not in denial. Shut up.

**Day Twenty: **

Fine. I'd tap that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Day Twenty One:**

Made the mistake of giving banana model my phone number. Woke me up at 2:17 a.m. to ask who sang Eye of the Tiger. I would know this, why? Hasn't he ever heard of Google? Dumb blonde.

PS: that song is stuck in my head now. Fiddlesticks.

**Day Twenty Two:**

I hate my uterus.

Running laps in PE on my period. Dying. In so much pain. Must have chocolate milkshake before I snap and kill _everyone_.

**Day Twenty Three: **

In moderately less murderous mood. Ayano-chan had dentist appointment, so ate lunch with banana model. Fans funnel him lots of snacks and goodies out of appreciation for his hot body. He generously deigned to share said goodies with my humble self. Accused me of having the appetite of a vacuum cleaner. Retaliated with a flick to his ear, which cowed him into submission.

Learned a bit more about him: he hates earthworms (understandably) because they're all slimy like entrails and he finds the way they wriggle unsettling. He's still upset about someone named Kurokocchi abandoning him. An ex-girlfriend, maybe?

**Day Twenty Four:**

Mom's new fling is a total tool. Met him over dinner for the first time tonight. He leered at my chest the second her back was turned, and then turned the meal into a droning narcissistic monologue about his new car and his upcoming promotion that he really should have gotten two years ago—but his supervisors are biased against him because he's younger than they are, you know—and where he went to university, and what he did while he was there, and I seriously contemplated drowning myself in my _miso_ soup to escape the unceasing torment.

When he finally left, I asked mom why she kept dating loser pricks and trying to fix them, only to turn around and let them stomp all over her heart. Devolved into an argument. Retreated to room in frosty silence.

Texted Ayano-chan, who was still drugged up and hilariously incoherent from her root canal yesterday. Funny, but she was in too much pain to bother with me for long. Bored after that. Pretty pathetic—need more friends. Texted banana model. Somehow found myself embroiled in another argument, this one concerning the advantages and disadvantages of a zombie apocalypse opposed to an alien invasion.

Interesting points raised:

1.) Whatever outbreak that caused the zombie apocalypse has no cure. Eventually, given time and numbers, everyone on earth is going to be a rotting glutton corpse person.

2.) It is possible to mount an effective resistance against the alien invaders regardless of their superior technology, but humanity is also subjected to their funky space germs and die en masse when introduced to foreign diseases. _However_, the alien invaders are similarly not immune to earth's home grown illnesses, and suffer comparably dense losses.

3.)Both scenarios introduce a hostile environment and lack of proper food and household amenities as obstacles to be overcome.

We came to the conclusion that either one would suck. Said goodnight. Not as upset when I went to bed.

**Day Twenty Five: **

Mom still exuding angry vibes this morning, giving me the silent treatment. Not going to apologize, since I feel my accusation was accurate and something she needed to consider.

Going to be a fun week, I can tell.

**Day Twenty Six: **

Banana model asked me to eat lunch with him again. Ayano-chan immediately excused herself, saying she was going to cram in the library to make up for the schoolwork she missed while she was absent. Plausible, but her sly smirk made me want to poke her sore jaw until she cried.

(Am still PMSing. Am not usually that evil, I promise.)

Banana model is surprisingly easy company, though my opinion of his poor intelligence has finally been cemented. I don't care what he says, ninjas are cooler than robots.

**Day Twenty Seven: **

Had to fill in for another employee at the Customer Service desk for the first time. The horror of that experience shall not be put to paper, lest your eyes melt out of their sockets.

**Day Twenty Eight: **

Badgered into attending another basketball game. Kaijō played some school whose name I didn't bother to remember. Walked all over them, like feet on carpet. Proud of our team, in a 'my kid can beat up your kid' sort of way.

**Day Twenty Nine:**

Banana model has dubbed me 'Inabacchi' and acquired the habit of ruffling my hair and sitting a bit closer to me during lunch, so that our knees barely touch and I can smell his bodywash, something manly and ocean-y and distracting.

Proud to say that I have _not _hyperventilated. Yet.

**Day Thirty: **

Foreign languages confound me, sentence structures are befuddling. Want to put my English homework in the oven and slowly burn it to death.

**Day Thirty One: **

Still a bit stilted, but things have thawed out with mom. We hugged and blubbered and watched a melodramatic Korean drama. A sore knot in my chest unraveled, now that we're talking again.

Best of all, she dumped the tool.

**Day Thirty Two: **

Officially met Kasamatsu-senpai, banana model's much respected team captain. Felt an immediate fondness for Kasamatsu-senpai when he sucker punched banana model in the kidneys for signing autographs when he should be doing laps instead. When banana model quit whimpering, he introduced the two of us.

Kasamatsu-senpai glowed as red as a traffic light, then all the color washed out of his skin. He stared over my shoulder and fidgeted and stuttered and ran off, pausing only to bark at banana model to quit flirting and hurry the hell on back to practice.

"He's terrified of girls," banana model told me with vengeful glee, a supervillain smile knifing across his lips. "Poor thing."

I'd probably feel used if it wasn't so funny.

**Day Thirty Three: **

Unearthed limited edition cream cheese pocky at the supermarket. Rapture!

**Day Thirty Four: **

The only time banana model finds me interesting is when I'm on my knees. At least, that's what the bitch horde is sneering behind their hands these days.

I smiled at them and licked my lips and assured them that by the time I'm done with him, he's on his knees too.

(I roll with things, because sometimes I overhear thug music when I'm at the laundromat and it inspires me.)

**Day Thirty Four: **

"I want you to call me Kise, Inabacchi. I want to hear you say my name."

The way he told me that—more serious than I'd ever heard him, eyes as sharp as a surgeon's scalpel...it cooked my hormones into flustered stew.

Hoo, boy. Play it cool, woman. "Think I'll do it just because? Convince me."

**Day Thirty Five: **

Pocky: my kryptonite.

It turns out Kise knows me well enough to guess that I'm susceptible to bribery. Alas.

I'll sort of miss the nickname, though.

**Day Thirty Six: **

Pop quiz in chemistry, worth double credit. Wish a polar bear would maul me and put me out of my misery.

I like polar bears better than regular bears because their fur is white. Makes them seem classier.

**Day Thirty Seven: **

Kise told me that his makeup artist told him that raw potato is good for the complexion, and can even clear up blemishes. Vegetables are indeed mysterious things.

Laughed at him for having a makeup artist.

**Day Thirty Eight: **

Will never admit this till the day my heart coughs to a stop, but bought a Zunon Boy with Kise on the cover. Don't know why. Feel a bit stalkerish. Gandered at it for a while and then shoved it under my bed, where everything else goes to die.

**Day Thirty Nine: **

Alright, alright. I've got it bad for him.

Really, life, just hand me more rope to hang myself.

**Day Forty:**

The conversation went something like this:

"Ne, Inabacchi, wanna meet up somewhere this weekend?"

"Sure. Where?"

"Karaoke. It'll be fun!"

"I can't sing. I sound like a yodeler being strangled in a metal trash can. Are you prepared to subject yourself to that?"

"I promise I'll feed you after I quit laughing at you, then."

"You'd better."

Uh, did he ask me out? And did I agree to it? Do we have a date? Like, actually?

Waiting to wake up any minute.


	3. Chapter 3

**Day Forty One: **

Embarrassingly anxious for the weekend to roll around. Still half convinced I'm in some sort of bizarro world where I'm actually interesting enough to make Kise want to date me.

Pretty, but a lot of girls are prettier, especially the other models he's bound to know. Not athletically inclined—the only time I'd ever willingly run a mile was if a rapist was chasing me with a knife. Tend to go off on strange mental tangents. Have monkey ears and a weird gasping laugh.

Though I concede I am adorable.

Still doesn't make sense. Walking bundle of nerves over here, oi.

**Day Forty Two: **

Practiced flirting on Ayano-chan, in case I might need it later. When she quit laughing hysterically, she assured me that I'm good for entertainment value, if nothing else.

I can live with that.

**Day Forty Three: **

Neighbor's dastardly cat assaulted me with its vicious claws a couple of years ago. Had to get tetanus shot. Have been trying to herd it into the middle of traffic ever since. Still hasn't been run over by a car.

Will not abandon hope of that occurring.

**Day Forty Four: **

Karaoke night!

Brayed like a donkey, ad libbed most of the lyrics. Had a good time making an absolute fool of myself. Kise was too busy guffawing at me to sing.

Went to get barbeque after that. Lost time just talking.

On the walk back to the train station, he threaded his fingers through mine. Told me he always felt better after being with me, that I never failed to make him laugh. That he kept thinking about me. Asked me if I wanted to spend more time with him, but as his girlfriend.

Debated having a heart attack. Concluded it would ruin the moment, and said yes instead.

**Day Forty Five: **

Have been in disgustingly buoyant mood, sighing dreamily like a vapid _shoujo _heroine all afternoon. If I wasn't so pleased with the world and everything in it, I'd want to slap myself with a spiked mitten for being obnoxious.

**Day Forty Six: **

First attempt at making boyfriend (ha!) a _bento _lunch. He assured me that even though the octopus wieners were deformed, they were delicious. Triumph!

**Day Forty Seven: **

Did homework together. Exasperated. Keeping Kise on task is like trying to persuade a moth away from a bright porch light when it's dark outside.

Flicked him in the ear. He's starting to flinch away from that now, learning to fear me. Good, good.

**Day Forty Eight: **

Had a sale at work today. Similar to swatting a hornet nest with a stick. Feel like I've been flattened by a steamroller, but still have to finish problems for math assignment before I can pass out.

When I take over the world, I will exact revenge for this suffering.

**Day Forty Nine: **

He kissed me.

!

**Day Fifty: **

Calmer today, so can provide details. We were at a park, where I lost at seesawing. I didn't know it was possible to do that, but he weighs quite a bit more than I do. I win at failing, I guess. He kept making fun of me, so I jabbed him in the ribs. He complained that everyone he knows beats him up. Told him he deserved it. We wrestled. It led to things.

Felt a bit clumsy, since I'd never kissed anyone before. He was patient, coaxing, lips soft and warm against mine. A bit of nibbling. Fingers tangled in hair, my hands looped around the nape of his neck and sliding along his (wow, broad and solid) shoulders. Pretty sure a bomb detonated in my chest.

Floated through the rest of the day. Wish I had big girl pants, so I could put them on to commemorate crossing this milestone.

**Day Fifty One: **

A thunderstorm washed in. Sounded like the sky was crumpling. Love the salty scent of rain, and the laser whip of lightning.

Ayano-chan stayed over late, waiting for the weather to wear itself out. We watched Liar Game and ate too much ice cream. Maybe we squealed a little bit about boys, too.

**Day Fifty Two: **

Given free tube of mascara from the cosmetics department at work. Tried it. Makes sexy lashes, but stings the eyes like whoa; they kept watering, even after I washed it off.

Kise came to pick me up after he was through doing a shoot, took one look at me, freaked out. Thought I was upset. Saw a chance to troll him, played it up. Told him a customer was super mean to me, and that they trampled all over my feelings. He got all puffed up like a prized rooster, ready to defend my honor. Couldn't help snickering. Kissed his cheek and called him a dork and drug him to a restaurant to feed him _yakisoba _for being sweet.

**Day Fifty Three: **

Played volleyball in PE today: ball slammed me in the tit. Unfortunate, but Lefty cushioned the blow like a champion. Good thing women have natural airbags on their chests.

**Day Fifty Four: **

Met Kise's older sister Raiha, the one that got him into modeling. Self esteem stumbled to its knees and coughed up blood as soon as I saw her. Positive their parents bartered out their souls to have gorgeous children.

Liked her, though. After we'd chatted for about an hour—mostly about embarrassing things we'd seen Kise do, while he hovered and whined about being a whipping post for cruelty—she told me that she approved of me so far, since I seemed to treat her brother like a person instead of a prize to be won and flaunted. Didn't know what to say to that.

**Day Fifty Five: **

Ayano-chan called me, screaming about the elite four and how she was going to punch the next person she saw in the throat. Was teensy bit scared of her vengeful gorgon rage.

Gradually talked her down. Told her she needed to get all her Pokemon up to at least level 60 before she tried to tackle the elite four, and stock up on tons of Full Restore and Max Revive before she challenged them again. Duh.

**Day Fifty Six: **

To hell with the surface area of your triangles! I don't need your geometry! Every number in the world should just DIE.

**Day Fifty Seven: **

Have to do extra credit to make up for failed math test. Would rather chew thumbtacks.

**Day Fifty Eight: **

Discovered Kise is ticklish on the inside of his wrists, and that he squeak-giggles like a seven year old girl after he's laughed long enough. It's precious.

**Day Fifty Nine: **

Tried green tea pocky. Didn't like it. Nothing makes sense anymore.

**Day Sixty: **

Let boyfriend badger me into playing DDR. Didn't know people still played DDR. Flailed around like a drunk ostrich while he beat the game's highest score. Then we made out. Heh.


	4. Chapter 4

**Day Sixty One:**

Have ascertained that Kise was part of a fruit basket in middle school while at his house, flipping through some old sports magazines that he's featured in. Explained my reasoning to him: his old team captain was a cherry, the shooter was a cucumber, the titan that wandered out of Shingeki no Kyojin is a grape, that tan guy is a blueberry, and he is a banana.

The Generation of Miracle Fruits. (Though that sort of sounds like a low budget gay porno.)

But really, what's up with all the weird rainbow hair colors?

**Day Sixty Two: **

Kise accused me of being fixated on food and food related analogies. Perhaps.

Then I flicked him in the ear and demanded to know if he was calling me fat. Watched him stammer and foam at the mouth with vindictive satisfaction.

**Day Sixty Three: **

Tried to hide the hickey on my neck with my hair. Mom still saw it. Gave me _The Talk_ again. Ordered me to bring the boyfriend over for inspection. Handed me some extra condoms from her bedside drawer, despite repeated protestations that my virtue is still mostly intact.

Considering a lobotomy in order to forget any of that ever happened.

**Day Sixty Four: **

Ugh, why is it so cold in the morning? Stupid weather. Stupid skirt.

Wear thigh high socks, not that they make any difference. It's like someone pours ice cubes down them as soon as I step out the front door. Of course Kise doesn't have any problems because _he _gets to wear pants. Am bloated with envy.

**Day Sixty Five: **

Basketball team's been excessively busy lately, prepping for the Winter Cup which is apparently a BIG DEAL. Very happy for the boyfriend, who's been twitching with excitement at the thought of upcoming matches when he's not twitching with exhaustion from practicing for them.

Going to try to arrange my schedule so that I can go see him play, but might not be able to get off work. Have been extra schmoozy and helpful recently so the boss lady will think kindly of me when I attempt to manipulate her into letting me switch shifts.

**Day Sixty Six: **

The boyfriend finally met the mother. She wants to adopt him, because apparently Kise can charm anything with a pulse. It's the eyes—they're like burnished copper coins, and it takes considerable willpower to deny them anything when he switches on The Pout. They get all hooded and glazed, and if he looks at you it will ping you right in the ovaries, I don't care how old and spinsterish you are.

**Day Sixty Seven: **

Ran into Kasamatsu-senpai again while waiting for Kise to amble out of practice. Wished him good luck at the upcoming tournament. Think he had a mild seizure.

**Day Sixty Eight: **

Apparently I make interesting noises when my collar bone is kissed. Kise insists that he must further research this phenomenon. I suppose it can't be helped, if it's for the pursuit of knowledge.

**Day Sixty Nine: **

Someone squatted and peed in the corner of the dressing room at Marui's. Was rather dumbfounded, because bathrooms are literally less than thirty steps away.

Felt like promising my first born son to the janitor, because if it wasn't for him, I (as the most junior employee) would have had to scrub up the foul urine. Feel a bit unfaithful to Kise, but am halfway in love with that old guy for just being alive and doing his job.

Noticed that janitors seem to prevent various tragedies in my life. Maybe they're all a coalition of secret superheroes, and they have meetings once a week to mop floors and discuss crime fighting and problem solving, disguising their heroism behind the cleverly average facade of a potbelly and a faded jumpsuit.

There is merit to this theory.

**Day Seventy: **

Ayano-chan showed up at school with a botched haircut, like a blind man with jittery hands and a dull pocketknife had hacked it all off in ragged chunks. She is inconsolable. Gave her a box of yogurt flavored pocky to comfort her. She snarled at me and shrieked that a bag she could wear over her head would be more useful.

Am inclined to agree.

Trying to convince her to just go ahead and get a pixie cut because that mess is unsalvageable, but she is understandably gun shy about letting anyone near her scalp with a pair of scissors again.

**Day Seventy One: **

Have work, so can't make it to quarter-finals where the team plays against Fukuda Sōgō Academy. Good news is that the matches are televised, and mom agreed to record it so I can watch it when I drag myself home after I clock out for the evening.

Had a quick call with Kise earlier. Grimmest I've ever heard him. Apparently he went to middle school with some asshole on the opposing team, and there are Olympic swimming pools of bad blood between them. Asked him if he wanted me to hike down there with my frying pan and rough a bastard up. Drudged a laugh out of him. Told me no, this was something he had to do himself.

Really wish I was there.

**Day Seventy Two:**

If Haizaki Shougo's head was on fire and I had a glass of water, I'd drink the glass of water and watch him burn. And his hair is stupid! Was that referee blind or just retarded? Did he _not see _the way Captain Cornrow stomped on Kise?!

Tore through the living room like Godzilla on an afternoon stroll in Tokyo after I witnessed that atrocity. Calmed down eventually and unpaused the video, then perched on the edge of the couch gargoyle style for the rest of the game, very much on tenterhooks. Think I choked a throw pillow to death.

So proud of Kise. Even with a mentally deficient referee and wobbly legs he rose up like a phoenix and snatched victory for Kaijō.

Whooped and did happy dance around coffee table.

**Day Seventy Three: **

Despise trains, because of so much ass groping. I understand that my ass is a lovely ass and very molestable, but that's just rude.

Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium resembled a spaceship crashed in the center of a parking lot. Roof looked like it was made of tented aluminum foil, and mirrored sunlight—couldn't quit squinting at how bright it was, and desperately longed for sunglasses. Throngs of people crowding me and being annoying did nothing helpful for my blood pressure.

Reunited with the boyfriend a couple of hours before his match against Seirin. Very valiantly didn't fret about how sore he probably was after gruesome match yesterday, and just handed him the Salonpas gel and pain relief patches I'd bought before climbing on the train. Told him if he impressed me today, I might condescend to massage his poor pulpy muscles later. He gave me a _look_. It turned my knees to putty and my libido into a raging gorilla that wanted to kidnap him and climb to the tip of the Empire State Building like King Kong with Ann Darrow.

Yeah.

When he left to go meet up with his team, I went to find a seat in the sands. Felt a bit awkward and hunted when I realized just how many of Kise's overzealous fangirls surrounded me. If they learned of my relation to him, they could mob me and cannibalize the meat off my skinny bones to absorb my aura. (Or that's what I suspect they'd do, because them bitches are crazy.)

And then the game commenced.

**Day Seventy Four:**

Can't even articulate what I'm feeling, except that my heart is probably lodged somewhere in my esophagus.

Kise tried so hard. He played like he would die if he stopped, and brutalized the limits of his body—like squeezing every drop of juice out of a lemon—because nothing less than his best, most agonizing effort would satisfy him. And it still wasn't enough.

Worse thing is that they only lost by one point. One fricking point.

And because he was still injured from both games, the coach wouldn't let him play in the third place match against Shūtoku, but Kaijō couldn't win against the miraculous cucumber without Kise.

Didn't really know how to console him. He was very pensive, a bit morose on the ride home. Sagged against my shoulder, dead to the world, no energy left to give. I just held him and hoped it helped a bit.

**Day Seventy Five: **

For once, we had a serious conversation.

Kise had asked me if I was disappointed that he didn't win. Think he expected me to be disillusioned about his perfection or something. Pfft. (Have known he's a flaky ditz since first time I talked to him. Like him anyway. Losing a basketball game isn't going to make me see him any differently.)

But I wasn't blithe. I told him: "As long as a person tries their hardest, no one has the right to look down on them. And I think hardship will bring out the most of your potential. It's like that old saying—_after the rain, earth hardens_. You'll only get stronger after this, and I dare anyone to beat you then."

Felt ridiculous and cheesy when I was finished, because I don't like stepping out of my puerile comfort zone; me being earnest is profoundly out of character. But I think that was something he needed to hear.

He hugged me after that, so tightly my bones creaked.

**Day Seventy Six:**

Have realized that Kise might break my heart one day.

It's coming slowly and softly and with laughter. Sidling along at its own pace, but it's getting closer. Eventually...

I could fall in love with this boy.

**Day Seventy Seven: **

Texting and brushing your teeth at the same time is inadvisable. Managed to somehow drop phone in toilet. Still can't get over how profoundly unintelligent I can be on occasion—aforementioned occasion being a prime example of said stupidity.

Cried a little. Resolved to buy new phone, because eww, no, can't put that thing anywhere near my face ever again.

**Day Seventy Eight: **

Mom came home early. Found me tangled with Kise on the couch, shirt off and his hand in an interesting place. I want to die.

Silver Lining: definitely no more 'I'm Not A Lesbian' conversations.

**Day Seventy Nine: **

Insides still curdled with embarrassment. Contemplating a pilgrimage to Tibet where I will wander, lost and aimless in the wilderness, until I starve to death.

Kise, whose head is apparently so full of glitter no room for shame is left, will not quit laughing about what happened. Giving serious consideration to pushing him down the apartment building stairs for being such a _boy_.

**Day Eighty: **

Euphoria! At last, at last, this moronic assignment has reached its end. Wasted so much time, time that can never be refunded when I'm toothless and senile and desperately coveting the days of my youth, scribbling in this stupid notebook. Everyone knows that notebooks are only interesting if they're being used as instruments of genocide by Yagami Light. Also, what sort of dork would keep a journal when tumblr exists?

.

.

.

_Inaba-san, your mind is a truly terrifying place. But despite the rampant vulgarity and excess of information that I would have preferred not to know, you still wrote within the required parameters of the project and completed it on time. Grade: 92%_


End file.
